Page 66 of A Slipper in the Smoke
“Well, it would be breaking a few rules. I wouldn’t want to get caught.”
“Such a rebel, Pip.”
He smoothed down the front of his jacket. “I have my moments.”
Her grin broadened. “I would love to.”
“Excellent!” he said, beaming from ear-to-ear. “I shall make the arrangements.”
“I shall look forward to it.”
He leant across and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering. “Until tonight, then.”
Elena’s initial plan had been to try and get some sleep in before midnight, but she’d quickly found that to be impossible. Pip’s plan had succeeded in obliterating all her fears, leaving behind only a quiet, unquenchable excitement. Passing the hours until then was exhausting.
She tried to dress herself up a bit, but there was no way she could improve upon Lucia’s earlier efforts, and she had nothing to add to the ensemble. She finished two of the books that had been left for her, and paced around her rooma lot.
From time to time, she debated going to seek Nero out, to demand an explanation for what had transpired earlier, but she knew that would be foolish. There was a chance, however small, that he truly hadn’t seen her.
Just ignore it,she told herself.It doesn’t matter.
The hours ticked painfully by.
Outside in the corridor, Elena could hear the giggling of other guests returning to their rooms, the closing of doors and shuffling of feet. Servants came later, delivering last minute items and requests.
By eleven, all was silent.
Not long before midnight, Elena heard someone moving along the corridor. Her heart leapt in her throat and she bolted across the room, thinking it was Pip at last—
A woman laughed.
Elena froze. It was a strange laugh—careful and measured, low and icy, devoid of any kind of warmth.
“Shall we adjourn to your chambers?” the woman asked.
Elena pressed herself against the keyhole, trying to catch a glimpse of her. She hardly knew why, but there was something about the voice that squirmed under her skin. Through the gap, Elena could make out only a flash of midnight-blue satin and a spool of ink-black hair.
The person she was with was more visible: Prince Nero.
“Not tonight,” he said, taking her hands. “You have quite worn me out already.”
The woman laughed again, stepping closer, untangling her hands to slide them around his neck. His body inched back, almost imperceptibly—yet his feet remained screwed to the floor.
Elena knew that feeling, that response. It was what she did when the Baroness was speaking to her.
“I’m sure I could find a way to renew your energy…” the woman continued, in a voice that made Elena’s skin crawl.
“I’m sure you could,” Nero replied, “but another night, perhaps. Good night, my Queen.”
Elena stilled. TheQueen.
She’d seen her once before, of course, during the ball where everything changed, but she hadn’t given her a great deal of thought other than to admire her gown and shining jewels. She hadn’t heard the hardness in her voice, had given no thought to how she made others feel.
But she reminded her now of the Baroness with her claws, and Elena seized up like a rabbit, wondering if she would strike.
The Queen’s arms fell from Nero’s neck. She made a small huff of disapproval. “Fine,” she said. “Sleep well, Prince Nero.”
She disappeared from view.
